Wolf Hall - Bring Up the Bodies

say the marriage was unlawful through affinity.’
    ‘Our difficulty is, in the case of Mary Boleyn, the king was apprised of the facts. He may not have known if Anne was secretly married. But he always knew she was Mary’s sister.’
    ‘Have you ever done anything like that?’ Master Wriothesley asks thoughtfully. ‘Two sisters?’
    ‘Is that the kind of question that absorbs you at this time?’
    ‘Only one wonders. How it would be. They say Mary Boleyn was a great whore when she was at the French court. Do you think King Francis had them both?’
    He looks at Wriothesley with new respect. ‘There is an angle I might explore. Now…because you have been a good boy and not struck out at Harry Percy or called him names, but waited patiently outside the door as you were bade, I’ll tell you something you will like to know. Once, when she found herself between patrons, Mary Boleyn asked me to marry her.’
    Master Wriothesley gapes at him. He follows, uttering broken syllables. What? When? Why? Only when they are on horseback does he speak to the purpose. ‘God strike me. You would have been the king’s brother-in-law.’
    ‘But not for much longer,’ he says.
    The day is breezy and fine. They make good speed back to London. In other days, in other company, he would have enjoyed the journey.
    But what company would that be, he wonders, dismounting at Whitehall. Bess Seymour’s? ‘Master Wriothesley,’ he asks, ‘can you read my mind?’
    ‘No,’ says Call-Me. He looks baffled, and somehow affronted.
    ‘Do you think a bishop could read my mind?’
    ‘No, sir.’
    He nods. ‘Just as well.’
     
     
    The Imperial ambassador comes to see him, wearing his Christmas hat. ‘Especially for you, Thomas,’ he says, ‘because I know it makes you happy.’ He sits down, signals to the servant for wine. The servant is Christophe. ‘Do you use this ruffian for every purpose?’ Chapuys asks. ‘Is it not he who tortured the boy Mark?’
    ‘Firstly, Mark is not a boy, he is only immature. Secondly, no one tortured him.’ At least, he says, ‘not in my sight or hearing, not at my command nor suggestion, nor with my permission, expressed or implied’.
    ‘I feel you preparing yourself for the courtroom,’ Chapuys says. ‘A knotted rope, was it not? Tightened around the brow? So you threatened to pop out his eyes?’
    He is angry. ‘This may be what they do where you were brought up. I have never heard of such a practice.’
    ‘So it was the rack instead?’
    ‘You can see him at his trial. You can judge for yourself whether he is damaged. I have seen men who have been racked. Not here. Abroad, I have seen it. They have to be carried in a chair. Mark is as nimble as in his dancing days.’
    ‘If you say so.’ Chapuys seems pleased to have provoked him. ‘And how is your heretic queen now?’
    ‘Brave as a lion. You will be sorry to learn.’
    ‘And proud, but she will be humbled. She is no lion, and no more than one of your London cats that sing on rooftops.’
    He thinks of a black cat he used to have. Marlinspike. After some years of fighting and scavenging he ran off, as cats do, to make his career elsewhere. Chapuys says, ‘As you know, a number of ladies and gentlemen of the court have ridden up to the Princess Mary, to assure her of their services in the time which is at hand. I thought you might go yourself.’
    God damn it, he thinks, I am already fully employed, and more than fully; it is no small enterprise, to bring down a queen of England. He says, ‘I trust the princess will forgive my absence at this time. It is to do her good.’
    ‘You have no trouble calling her “the princess” now,’ Chapuys observes. ‘She will be reinstated, of course, as Henry’s heir.’ He waits. ‘She expects, all her loyal supporters expect, the Emperor himself expects…’
    ‘Hope is a great virtue. But,’ he adds, ‘I hope you will warn her not to receive any persons without permission from the king. Or from me.’
    ‘She cannot stop them resorting to her. All her old household. They flock. It will be a new world, Thomas.’
    ‘The king will be eager, is eager, for a reconciliation with her. He is a good father.’
    ‘A pity he has not had more opportunity to show it.’
    ‘Eustache…’ He pauses, waves Christophe away. ‘I know you have never married, but have you no children? Do not look so startled. I am curious about your life. We must come to know each other better.’
    The